Hey, Saba?

Uh huh?

Did you really see Epona? she says.

Yeah, I says.

I wish I could see Pa. I miss him. D’you miss him?

Such a simple question. So like Em. An I’m ambushed by sudden grief. I cain’t answer right away.

When I was yer age, I whisper, he was different. You never knew him like that. He was . . . I dunno. He was my pa, that’s all. That’s who I miss.

It’s okay to be sad, she says.

I scrub away the stupid tears.

I wish I could meet Ma, she says. Jest once. D’you think she’d come if I asked her to?

I don’t think it works that way, I says.

She’s silent fer a moment. Then she says, You ain’t gonna die, are you, Saba?

One day, I says. But not today. Go to sleep.

G’night. She snugs down into her bedroll.

I roll onto my back an stare at the sky. I think about Pa an watch the last of the stars fade as dawn creeps in.

Read me the stars, Pa. Tell me what they say.

When Pa was a boy, he met with a traveller. A man who knew many things. He learned Pa how to read the stars. From when we was little, Pa would tell us how our destiny, the story of our lives, is in the night sky. He never would say what he seen there. But it laid heavy on him, you could tell. From the way he looked at Lugh sometimes. The way he looked at me.

Lugh come to disbelieve star readin an all that. I guess he’s right. But still, Pa knew somethin. He did. I was there. I heard him say it.

Pa! I yell. They got Lugh! I grab his arm, give him a hard shake. This is real! You gotta fight!

Then it’s like he comes to life. He pulls hisself up tall, his eyes spark an the Pa I remember’s back. He hauls me to him, holds me so tight I cain’t hardly breathe.

My time’s nearly up, he says quickly.

No, Pa!

Listen. I dunno what happens after this. I could only see glimpses. But they’re gonna need you, Saba. Lugh an Emmi. An there’ll be others too. Many others. Don’t give in to fear. Be strong, like I know you are. An never give up, d’you unnerstand, never. No matter what happens.

I won’t, I says. I ain’t no quitter, Pa.

That’s my girl.

Then they killed him. The Tonton. They killed my pa an took my Lugh an left the shadows behind.

The moment Lugh’s awake, he jumps up, checks out Buck’s leg an tells us we’re on the move agin. Jest like that.

As we break camp an start to pack the horses, nobody says a word. The air’s tight. Ready to snap. Lugh’s dancin mad about somethin. Tommo keeps his head down, outta the line of fire. Emmi looks at me, wide-eyed. What’s the matter with Lugh?

So, Saba, he says, where’s yer bow? His voice is fake casual. So that’s it. He knows. Over Hermes’ back, I look at Em. The tiniest shake of her head. She ain’t told. I wonder what he knows. I decide to tell as little as I can git away with.

It’s broke, I says.

Is that right, he says.

I busy myself adjustin Hermes’ bit. I must of bin sleepwalkin agin, I says. Must of fell an broke it.

Emmi? he says. You got anythin to say about this?

She goes bright red. No, she says.

Well, try this, he says. Saba broke her bow on purpose. An you hid the pieces in a rock. An then both of yuz decided to keep it from me. How about that?

All right, I says, you followed us an you seen what happened. Jest leave it, okay?

No, I won’t leave it, he says. You broke yer gawdamn bow, Saba. Was you sleepwalkin? An don’t lie to me.

I was sleepwalkin, I lie.

Yer lyin, he says. I always know when yer lyin. Why’d you do it? Why would you do that?

I says naught.

Don’t jest stand there, he yells, tell me, gawdammit! Why’d you break yer gawdamn bow?

The horses shy an whinny. Lugh looks at me, his face tight with worry an . . . somethin else. Fear. I cain’t burden him no more. An if I tell him about Epona, he’ll think I’m crazy. I ain’t. I ain’t crazy. She was there.

I was sleepwalkin, I says.

I’m jest tryin to keep us all together, he says, to give us a better life than Pa did an all you seem to care about is yerself or . . . I dunno, I got no idea what yer thinkin. I feel like I don’t know you no more. He shakes his head. Fine. Whatever. What the hell, it ain’t like you use the damn thing. It ain’t like me an Tommo don’t do all the huntin anyways.

We mount up. Nero sails down an lands on my shoulder.

Yer gittin more like Pa every day, says Lugh.

How d’you mean? I says.

You figger it out.

He heels Buck an pushes past. Tommo’s right behind him. Em looks at me a moment, her face like a worried old woman, then she hurries after ’em.

I sit there on Hermes. The pines murmur to each other.

More like Pa every day. I favour him in looks – black hair, brown eyes – but that ain’t what Lugh meant. No. What he means is I’m goin crazy. Jest like Pa. Our hopeless, helpless father, his reason snatched by death. The death of Ma, who breathed her last as Emmi breathed her first. Pa was left a broke soul with a broke mind. He got worse an worse as time went on.

I ain’t like Pa. Nuthin like Pa.

Please.

Don’t let me be like Pa.

Somethin’s followin me. Somethin or . . . somebody. It’s bin there most of the day. It’s mid-afternoon now.

I could turn around an look. If I did that once, I did it a hunnerd times already. The feelin that somethin’s there . . . it’s kept me checkin back over my shoulder, agin an agin. Every time I don’t see a thing but where we jest come from.

Still. There’s this heaviness in the air behind me. Like somethin’s settled there. Like somethin’s takin up space.

I feel it on the back of my neck. My skin prickles with it. I know it’s there. I jest cain’t see it.

Not yet, anyways.

Now I hear hoofs. The dry thud of hoofs on hard ground. There’s a horse behind me. Not in a hurry. Keepin pace. Keepin me company.

A shiver ripples through me. My hands feel so cold. Even though today’s the kinda day when the world shimmers white with heat. I huddle inside my sheema.

I gotta take a look.

I hold my breath. I look over my right shoulder.

A little ways behind me, a shape lies jagged along the ground. It’s black. Like it’s bin cut out of the night sky. It’s a horse. An a rider.

My heart starts bangin aginst my ribs. I stare. This ain’t the time of day fer shadows. I look away quick. A heavy, sick feelin grips my stummick. Hermes snorts an tosses his head. He’s nervous. That ain’t like him. I press with my heels an he picks up speed. The hoofbeats behind us quicken. I glance back.

The black shape’s keepin pace.

I know the line of that neck. That head. Many times before, when she still drew breath, we’d be ridin an I’d look over my shoulder, jest like now. She’d smile or say somethin to cheer me up.

Epona.

I bring Hermes to a halt. The shadow rider stops too. I stare down at my hands. They tremble on the reins.

Epona, I says. Whaddya want from me?

Silence. Nero flies above. He caw caw caws. Does he see her too?

Breakin my bow warn’t enough. I gotta pay proper fer what I did. She’ll pace me. Stalk me. Haunt my nights an dog my days till I lay myself down, bare my throat an beg her to finish me off. She must be paid in kind fer her lost life.